Capability
by MadnessJones
Summary: Disneyverse: Frollo and a 10 year old Quasimodo share a meal, and Frollo gives Quasimodo a very warped explanation of what love is. Oneshot. No pairings.


_Author's Notes: This oneshot idea came to me when I thought of the part in the movie where Frollo tells Quasimodo that gypsies aren't capable of real love, and I got to wondering how much of that was manipulation and how much Frollo actially believed it. It would explain why Frollo feels comfortable raising Quasimodo and yet never comes to truly love him._

**Lira: **_I couldn't reply because you left a guest review, but if you want to translate into Russian tha would be great! I've never had anyone ask to translate my work before, but I think it's a good idea :)_

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**Capability**

_By Madness Jones_

Frollo strolled along the same street he traveled every day on his way to Notre Dame to eat dinner with his adopted ward Quasimodo. It was a routine that had become second nature to the aging judge. He used to have to sleep in the bell tower when the little hunchbacked monster was a baby, so Frollo often found himself grateful that the ghastly little creature was now 10 years old and had a steady job as Notre Dame's bell ringer.

As Frollo went about the day's shopping he picked up some cheap rye bread just as he did every day for the boy and also some diluted wine for them to share. As an afterthought Frollo also bought some egg tarts and stopped by a fresh fruit stand to pick up some grapes. It was an odd thing for Frollo to decide to spoil the child so, but today was a hard day for Frollo.

It had been 12 years to the day that Frollo had learned of the death of his younger brother Jehan. Oh, how this cruel anniversary tormented him. Before Claude Frollo had become the cold ruthless judge everyone knew him to be, he had once been a mere scholar that had to juggle keeping up with his studies and finding steady work to support his little brother Jehan. They had been orphans with only each other to count on, and Claude had loved his brother like a son. It was all for nothing though, as his brother had grown to be an ungrateful brat and had run away to live with a gypsy caravan first chance he got. A few years later Jehan had died after being stabbed during a robbery.

The older Frollo sighed bitterly at the intrusive thought of his brother. That part of his life was over now. His current duty was to ensure that the demon he was forced to keep alive was fed and educated. Frollo felt he had the worst luck with care-taking. First he raised a pagan prince and then he was saddled with the demon seed of a dead gypsy witch. He shuddered to think what would happen to his reputation if anyone knew he was keeping such a sinful thing alive in the very heart of Paris. Sometimes he wondered if he was doing the right thing by taking care of the young hunchback.

After walking into Notre Dame and ascending the stairs to the bell tower Frollo announced himself to Quasimodo, who ran clumsily into the room from where he had been standing on the balcony. Frollo watched dispassionately as Quasimodo hurried to set the table with Frollo's pewter cup and plate as well as his own wooden cup and plate. Then the boy sat down, and Frollo gracefully took his seat across from the child.

"G-Good morning, Master," Quasimodo greeted Frollo respectfully with bowed head and clasped hands, "A-Are y-you well t-today?"

Frollo hated the way the child stuttered. It was such a pain to listen to. While Frollo was used to the boy's appearance by now, that still didn't stop him from detesting the sight of his ugly face and misshapen form.

Without a reply Frollo set the bread down and gave Quasimodo the wine to pour for them both. The boy was getting better about not spilling the contents all over Frollo's robe, for which Frollo was both grateful and pleased.

"Shall we review your arithmetic, Quasimodo?" Frollo asked imperiously.

"Um, yes Master, I would like that very much," Quasimodo replied automatically, though it was clear he didn't actually like the subject at all.

"Very well. We shall work on addition today," Frollo began, "What is 1 plus 4?"

"Um..." Quasimodo then started counting on his hand.

"Don't cheat, Quasimodo," Frollo warned.

"Sorry, Master," Quasimodo simpered, "Okay, um, 1 plus 4 equals...5."

"Very good, Quasimodo," Frollo nodded as he took a piece of bread for himself, "Now, what is 3 plus 7?"

"Uh...9?"

"No, Quasimodo. 3 plus 7 is 10. Have you been studying?"

"Yes Master, all the time!" Quasimodo exclaimed to try to defend himself, "I'm sorry I'm so stupid. I-I-I'll try h-harder next time."

"Very well, you are forgiven," Frollo replied coldly, "Now eat your dinner. Not too fast though. I brought dessert."

"Y' dih?" Quasimodo asked with his mouth full.

"Swallow first, boy," Frollo replied longsufferingly.

Quasimodo gulped down a large bite of his food and asked "What did you bring, Master?"

"Egg tarts and grapes," Frollo replied.

"Wow! _Two_ desserts?" Quasimodo asked excitedly, "That's amazing! You're the best master ever! I love you, Master!"

At those words Frollo paused. It was only for a second, but Quasimodo caught the change in mood as Frollo schooled his features into sternness and carefully put down his bread.

"Um, is something wr-wrong, Master?" Quasimodo asked nervously.

"What have I told you about lying, Quasimodo?" Frollo asked, an accusing look on his face.

"That it's the devil's talk," Quasimodo replied.

"Correct. So, why do you lie to me now, boy?" Frollo asked stonily.

"What did I lie about, M-Master?" Quasimodo asked, fear of his master chilling him to his core.

"You said you loved me," Frollo reminded him, "That is a lie. You do not love. You cannot love. You are a monster and a product of an unholy gypsy union. As such, you are not capable of real love."

Quasimodo was cut to his core by those words. He knew his master could be harsh at times in order to teach him how the world worked, and he knew he was a monster, but to be told he couldn't love...that just didn't seem right.

"But I do love you, Master!" Quasimodo insisted, "Honest I do!"

"Quasimodo, you do not love me. You _need_ me. It is not the same," Frollo countered with absolute calm, "When you are older you will understand. I cannot explain what love is to you because you cannot understand it. Love is not selfish, and your dependence on me is selfish. Now, finish your dinner. I need to go home before it gets dark out."

"Yes, Master," Quasimodo whispered, defeated.

The rest of their dinner was spent in silence. Quasimodo ate his tarts but saved back the grapes for later. When they were finished Frollo patted the boy on the head like a faithful hound and then walked away, leaving the child in the lonely bell tower with nothing but his thoughts, his imagination, and his duty to ring the bells now that evening had truly set in.

As Frollo rode on his horse back to the Palace of Justice he couldn't help but think about Quasimodo's spontaneous declaration at the dinner table. It had been spoken with such childlike innocence and sincerity. Could the boy have meant what he said? Did he truly love Frollo as a child would their father?

_No_! Frollo forced the thought away. _It's a monster. He's merely trying to trick you, trying to get you to let your guard down. The devil can disguise himself as an angel of light, after all. If Quasimodo is capable of love, then all gypsies are capable of love. Those verminous heathens would break the bones of their own children to make them more effective beggars. No, they cannot love, and neither can the monster. He is merely aiming to drag me down to Hell with him when he goes. Well I won't fall for it. I know better. If even my own brother Jehan could use me, then surely the hunchback could as well. He cannot trick me..._

_..._

Once he had rang the vesper bells Quasimodo went to sit on the balcony with his favorite three gargoyles, whom he had named Hugo, Victor, and Laverne. He often imagined that they came to life and spoke to him. They gave very good advice and offered the companionship that humans couldn't give him.

"Hey Quasi, what's with the long face?" Hugo asked as Quasimodo looked out at the sunset lighting up the Seine.

"You look like you've had a rough day," Laverne piped up, "You wanna talk about it?"

"Master says I can't love," Quasimodo told them, "He says monsters and gypsies can't feel real love, but...I always thought maybe I could. Because I live here in Notre Dame and have had Master to teach me. I thought maybe I could love just like ordinary people. He says I can't though, because I only want him around out of my own selfish needs."

"That sounds like a load of bird droppings," Hugo replied dismissively.

"Indeed, it is very obvious you can love," Victor added, "I mean, you love us, don't you?"

"Well..." Quasimodo thought very hard about it before answering, and then said, "I thought I loved you. I mean, you're my best friends. Then again, maybe I just need you, like I need my master. Maybe I really can't love."

The gargoyles didn't answer him. Since they were only products of his own mind they only knew as much as he knew, and they couldn't refute something Quasimodo himself didn't know how to refute. Quasimodo paced back and forth on the balcony and tried to solve this new puzzle.

"So, love means you care for someone even when you get absolutely nothing in return," Quasimodo said out loud, "Hm...Master feeds me, comes to see me every day, teaches me things, and helped me get a job. He tells me often what a burden I am to him, yet he still takes care of me. He keeps me alive when the rest of the city would drown me or burn me. He keeps me locked up in my sanctuary so I won't get out and get hurt. He told me how wicked everything is and has never lied to me. Wow, Master must love me very much."


End file.
